Two of a Kind Spy
by SejiADettswic
Summary: her mother and father r dead. her younger brother is a kid genius. the government is after them. and they need to find out wat they'r parents were working on while working 4 the government.
1. Me and My Bro

Sister: Jadranka, Jade

Brother: Jamison, James

Well, for starters, my brother is a kid genius. He could create whatever you needed, and he can hack into the most safely guarded electronically stocked information there is out there. I mean, getting into the governments safely guarded, secret information was a cinch, but I'm getting ahead of myself. As you can tell, my brother is the, shall we say, 'mastermind' of the two of us. Me, well, I'm more of the physical one. I'm the person that throws the punches, smashes doors open, and carries the heavy burden of my brother's equipment. So, between the two of us, we make a pretty good team. There's no one and nothing that can stand in our way. Honestly though, do you think you can?

But a while back our mom and dad died, they died in a car wreck. They were two of the best spies in the world, and they taught us all of their moves. The one thing they didn't teach us: their secrets.

We were enlisted to take their place as top secret government agents, but we turned the offer down. There was no certainty that I could stay with James, or that he could stay with me, so I had to improvise. The government wasn't happy, especially since it was believed that our parents had told us all of their secrets. Of course, as I told you before, they didn't. But try telling that to a top secret service and see if they believe you. You wouldn't really want to start a fight. At least I don't think you would, I'm the kind of person that would want to start a fight and I know exactly what I would've done in that situation. But my brother, James, convinced me to make a run for it. I decided to go with his decision, 'cause even though I can fend off an army, James would die before his first hit; not to mention that his decisions are often the ones that don't end in one of us (me) or both of us getting hurt.

Now tell me, what would you do if you were in a strange room with your younger brother, sitting in the only two chairs in the room, which are bolted down? There are five men across from you, two men on your left, and two men standing next to your brother on your right. All the men are big, hustley, full of muscle, and can probably fight pretty well. These men are secret agents; they are wearing dark glasses to cover their eyes and formal hats to cover their heads. You don't know who any of these men are, You don't know what they want, and their questioning you. They start off questioning you about your parents and anything that they've ever said to you. Then, they give you this long speech about your parents and the government, telling you things that you never expected to hear, things that you never knew before, things that sparked your inner curiosity. Afterwards, the big guy in the center of the five people in front of you, asks you a question, a question that will change your life. You have two answers; yes or no. Any other response will undoubtedly be unacceptable to the people surrounding you. And the question is, "Are you going to take your parents place?"

The man said it as a question, but it was undoubtedly meant as a statement. We were going to have to take the offer, I was ready to say yes. But one look at James affirmed what I feared, a catch. We could both hear it in the man's voice, it said that there was something more to the deal. So I voiced the thing we were both thinking, "What's the catch?"

"It is not positive that you two will be placed together during assignments, it is most likely that Jamison will be placed in the technology section of our working places. He is most valuable to the electronics portion of the security and spy networking system. You will undoubtedly be placed on the field, to work private missions for our government."

I just stared back at him, I didn't understand half the things he just said, I knew he had called my brother by his real name, but one thing stood out more clearly than the others, 'it is not positive that you two will be placed together.' That bothered me; did he think I was crazy? Did he honestly think that I would allow myself to be placed somewhere other than by my brother's side? I had to protect James. When we first found out that mom and dad were dead I promised him that I wouldn't let anything separate us, and that we would be able to do everything together. 'We'll stick together until the end,' that's what I told him. I wasn't going to take back my promise now.

I was going to beat them to pulp, all nine of the freakish looking men. There was one door; I already had a plan down in my head. But James knows me, and before I could act he spoke, "No, Jadranka, don't."

He knew what he was talking about, he was serious, I could tell. He never called me by my first name unless he felt that it was really important. That's most likely the only reason why I stopped, because he didn't call me Jade, as usual. He had a plan, hopefully better than mine. It was the first time he spoke to the men when he said, "What's our other option?"

"There is no other option," was 'buffy's' reply, "If don't agree we'll be forced to kill you. You know too much, your parents knew too much. And even if you won't agree to that, we're alright; we already know what you know. Even though you refuse to tell us exactly how much you know, that is all relative, we are willing to give you a certain amount of privacy; but that privacy has it's limitations." He said ominously with a wry smile.

James' plan had failed, so again, I went through what I knew about how we got here. There were three people that the group passed on our way to get to this room. There were two number coded doors and then a bunch of security cameras. I didn't really care whether or not we were caught on tape, besides, they had already videotaped us walking into the building. Why not show them how to get out?

So, with the full understanding that I would most likely get out of this situation with a few scratches I yelled, "NOW!" and James ducked down and pulled the chair over his head.

I don't really like going into detail about how I dealt with the guards, so lets just say that I left all of them unconscious, most of them bleeding, and I might have even severely injured a few. But, I didn't stay to find out, I ran out of the room, half dragging James because of his inability to do anything physical and fast. We got to the first door and typed in the code on the pad. (Now, don't go thinking that the guards were stupid enough to show us what the pass code was, but they were stupid enough to let me and my brother listen while they typed it in. One of the tricks our parents taught us was how to identify the sound that that electronic key pads made when the hit pertain numbers, that lesson also included how to pick a lock and such, but we can save that for later.) On our way out we ran into two of the three men I had heard before. I knocked them out cold, and as soon as James and I were outside, off we went, in search of a new, safer life.


	2. How My LIfe Changed

Chapter 2

So now, here we are, living our own life. We've got a house, a fake id, a foster parent that doesn't know our real names and some other stuff that just happens to be part of our life. James has the room across the hall from me. My room is covered in a bunch of toddler stuff. Everything is pink and purple. There are dolls, doll houses, a canopy bed, Barbie dolls, etc., etc. You never would've thought that a fifteen year old girl would have a room like that would you? And, in a month, for my birthday, I will most likely get a Minnie mouse t-shirt. The old lady that takes care of me and James is fine, she's just a little exocentric. The stuff I actually care about is the stuff she would have me get rid of the moment she saw it. For example: my i-pod, my phone, my 'gadgets,' a book, some photos of my past, and some other stuff. All of which I keep in a black bag. James' room is filled with star wars, bat man, spider-man, and some other super hero themed room. He keeps his 'stuff' in a bag that is similar to mine.

We're ready to run on a moments notice. We have everything we need in those two bags, but so far, there's no sign that the government has tracked us here. But we still take the bags everywhere with us. Of course, that may have something to do with the fact that we wore black wigs and a large amount of dark clothing to blend in with the shadows and keep our faces hidden from anyone when we first escaped. Now though, we don't wear disguises. We use the names James and Jade Walker. James is in eighth grade and goes to Walbridge Jr. High, whereas in three days I will be going to my second year in high school at Bridgeway High.

Now, you might wonder what the big deal about the 'Bridge' part of the school names is. We live in Bridgeway, what a coincidence. There's some sort of famous monumental bridge that this place is supposed to be famous for. But honestly, it's just a rusty, run-down old bridge with a small wooden bridge along side it. I think it's supposed to be supper-special for some reason, but I have yet to see any sign of it being significant other than the fact that it's probably the oldest bridge on this planet and is a haven to many homeless people.

"Jade! You're going to miss the school bus pumpkin!" Pumpkin? Who call a fourteen year old girl pumpkin? Kayla, that's who. She's our foster parent and she's old enough to be our grandmother, she thinks we're like, I dunno, two or something. Anyway, other than that, she's pretty ok.

"The bus isn't coming for another half hour!" I yell back at her. It's just like Kayla to want us to be somewhere really early, but I have to admit, she was getting better. She used to have us at the bus stop an hour before it came.

"That's alright doll, no harm in being early. But don't yell in the house, use you inside voice precious."

I grabbed my black bag along with a brown purse and a dark blue back pack. My blond hair is pulled back into a single braid going down my back. I knock twice on James' door before I walk downstairs and out the door, telling him I would meet him at the park after school. Our schools were five blocks apart; the park was two blocks from his school and three blocks from mine.

About an hour later I find myself walking through the corridors of Bridgeway High. It's the middle of the year. Yet I've never been hear before. We arrived at Kayla's house during some perky Christmas/new years two week away from school vacation. So here I am, it's January, and I'm the new kid. People gawk at me, that's what you do when there's a newbie, right? But the staring is made all the more worse by the fact that it's the middle of the school year. Everyone just watches me, it's as if they're waiting to determine where I am on the popularity scale.

Don't get me wrong, I don't have anything against the staring and such, I understand that that is just part of every schools tradition. With my parents, at my old school, I was the one that did the staring. So, the many gazes that we're set upon me didn't matter all that much, but something else did, something that was making me hyper-aware of my surrounding, and I didn't know what it was.

You know that feeling you get when something doesn't feel right, or when something is too good to be true? That's what it was, that was what I was feeling. Shoot me like I'm dead, but I wanted what it was, it was a good feeling. So, being the curious soul that I am I followed the strange sense through the school, searching for the cause of the commotion within my body. I found it when I turned the corner of a hall into an almost deserted side hall.


	3. Get Off of My Back

There were two people there, and they were in a serious make out session. And when I say serious I mean SERIOUS! They were_ all_ over each other, I was disgusted to watch, so with a sick feeling in my stomach, I walked to my first period class.

Everyone stared at me when I walked in. I just smiled, with my head tilted a little up, looking down at them, to show them that I was there superior, and that they wouldn't bother me. I walked by the teacher in the middle of his introduction to the class, and sat down at a desk that was abruptly cleared for me. I believe that the teacher immediately saw that I was going to be a difficult student. He acknowledged that by having everyone in the class say there names and their favorite subject. I saw that his class was the one that was most commonly named, students were obviously trying to gain his favor. I snickered.

"Yes, Ms. Jerico, is there something you'd like to say?" James and I desided to give ourselves the last name Jerico so that no one would know our true identities.

"Well, it's no business of mine, but it sounds to me like you have a bunch of pieces of lying filth in your classroom."

"Ms. Jerico, I run this classroom how I please. When you walk through my door I am the law."

"I am fully aware of that. But it doesn't mean I'm going to, shall we say, be adaptable to all your rules?"

"Young lady, I will punish as I see fit, I hope you keep that in mind."

"I am," I say leaning forward in my seat.

He acted as if I hadn't said anything and I leaned back in my chair, doodling in a notebook. I had already taken these classes, only it was back when my mom home schooled James and I. I sighed, looking up I saw that everyone in the class was watching me. Some of the fact were trying to hide the fact that they were questioning me. Others made it fully obvious that they were going to have to talk to me later on. I wasn't looking forward to those conversations. Maybe I should try to stay under the radar sometime, nah! Who am I kidding? Even if I tried to stay 'under the radar' I would somehow manage to rocket skyward and become everyone's top priority. James wasn't planning on staying here long, but he thought that there was some connection to our parents in this place, which is why we decided to put ourselves under this city's delusionalness.

I sat through the next two classes, passing the time by making snide comments at the teachers, saying rude things under my breath, and asking random questions that came to mind in the middle of class. For example: I was in the front row during second period history while Mrs. Cardigan was talking to us about the French rev. or something. She spits so much when she talks, it's disgusting. So I said, "Ok, that is really gross. Did you have too much to drink before you started class? Cause I have got your spit all over my new shirt." The whole class started cracking up. Mrs. Cardigan obviously didn't find it that funny.

Fourth period was free time, thank God. I went outside and drew a picture of this girl beating up some buff guy. Now, I'm not a great artist or anything, and you might be thinking, _you draw? _Yes, I do. I know it doesn't seem to fit in very well with my personality or anything, but drawing is what I do to relax.

When I was in the middle of the picture someone came up behind me, I ignored them. "Nice drawing," the guy said.

"What's it to you?"

"No, really," he replied, "it's good."

"Fab that you think that, too bad I don't care," I sighed, and walked away.

"Where are you going?"

"What's it to you?"

"Do you say that a lot?"

"What's it to you?" I said again.

"Umm, I was just wondering," he was still following me.

"Well, you do seem to wonder a lot of things, don't you?" I asked turning to face him. _Aw, shit. _I thought when I saw who it was, I didn't try to hide my surprise off my face. He had dark brown, almost black hair, violet eyes, a lot of hustle, pale skin, perfect lips, was really hot, didn't have a single blemish, and was the guy I had seen in the hall.

"Yeah, I'm a curious guy. What?" he said when he saw my surprise.

"I'm surprised your lips aren't sore." I turned away and continued walking toward the building.

"What?" confusion was written all over his face.

"Really? Have you already forgotten what you did to that girl in the hallway?"

"What do you mean?" he sounded wary now.

"Sucking peoples faces off doesn't sound very appealing to me, but maybe it does to you."

"You saw that?"

"Um, yeah, I'd like to say no, but yeah."

"How much did you see?"

"Oh, was there a grand finally or something? Well, gee, sorry I missed it." I said sarcastically.

"Oh," was all he said.

"You know, most people don't really like it when someone is watching them make out with their girlfriend, but hey, who am I to judge?"

He laughed, "Too bad you missed it, I had a great plan for the end."

"Glad I didn't see it."

I could swear I heard him say, _'yeah, me too.'_ But I probably just imagined it.


End file.
